


Is It By Mistake or Design?

by ratsauce



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Dom Harry, Dom Nick, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Sub Louis, Subdrop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:38:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3383579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratsauce/pseuds/ratsauce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He lets out a few strained breaths, and the boy hikes him up further in his lap until he's almost fully sitting on him, and he hides his face in his neck. He knows he's probably smearing tears and snot and whatever else that's on his face on this guy's neck but this is the most comfortable he’s been since last night, and he’ll be fucked to move.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is It By Mistake or Design?

**Author's Note:**

> The only reason I posted this is because it was taking up space that I didn't have.
> 
>  **WARNING: Please don't read if things like this trigger you.** I need everyone to be okay and happy and if this is gonna get in the way of that, then, don't read it.
> 
> PLEASE NOTE THAT I WILL NOT BE DOING ANOTHER PART TO THIS. I'm sorry, but I've started it to this twice before and I keep losing it, some way or the other. Sorry to disappoint. But read on, leave kudos and comments and unicorn shit, ~~even though I'm a failure~~.

Louis shivers in his sleep as the sheets are pulled back from his bare frame, a pout settling onto his features. Nick sighs and smoothes his fingers across the tan skin of his thigh when Louis whines.

"Lou, love," Louis hears in the depth of his subconscious, and he wills himself to open his eyes. When he does, he sees a fully dressed Nick standing at his side.

Before Louis can even voice his confusion, Nick starts, "I have to go in early, Louis. I have a meeting or summat, I don't really know, but I have to go."

"What-" Louis starts groggily, trying to roll over onto his back. He stops when the sheets rub across the tender skin of his bum.

He tenses when he remembers the look of absolute disappointment on Nick's face yesterday, the painful grip on his arm as he had pulled him into the house. He remembers Nick's hand on his bum, then the paddle. He remembers that Nick didn't stop until his bum cheeks were raw and red, until he was sobbing and pleading for him to stop.

"Nick, I-" Louis starts frantically, wincing as he sits up. But Nick's already picked up his jacket and is walking out the room, and Louis' shoulders slump.

He had meant to apologise to Nick this morning before he left, tell him that his behaviour yesterday was in no way acceptable and that he was sorry, but Nick never even gave him the fucking chance. Louis hears the front door slam shut and cringes.

He just sits there, after that. The weight on his bum hurts like hell but he can't be fucked to even move. He kind of feels like he deserves it, too, so he sits there, even after his arse starts stinging.

His phone alarm goes off and that's when he realises actually how long he's sat there, the golden sun high up in the sky. It takes him a while to get out of bed, and when he finally finds the strength to stand, his left foot drops straight on the paddle Nick used on him last night. Louis hears the wood splinter and stills.

"No," Louis' voice cracks as he drops to his knees, cradling to pieces of wood to his naked chest. "No no, oh _God_." he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut.

This-. _Nick_ got him that paddle. He can't believe he just fucking broke something that Nick _bought_ him.

And, ontop of that, Nick's probably gonna think that he broke it on purpose. Which he'd never do, no matter what the circumstances were. The paddle was _theirs_ and he fucking broke it and God, Nick's gonna hate him.

_If he doesn't already._

Louis chokes on a sob and throws the broken paddle under the bed, pulling his legs tight against his body. He knows that he has work in half an hour and it would make him feel even worse to disappoint his boss, but he doesn't really see himself moving from where he is.

He sniffles, lifting a hand to wipe at the tears rolling down his cheeks. He makes a weak attempt at pulling himself up off the floor, holding on to the mattress as he stands. His knees are wobbling, and his heart is hammering away in his chest. He can't hear himself think over the rush of blood in his ears but he thinks that maybe that's a good thing, that his thoughts would make his state worse.

By the time Louis finds a way to get himself ready, he's on the brink of tears once more. His tea burned him twice, the fry up he was attempting to make fell on the floor, his glasses fell off his face and one of the lenses got fucked so he had to put in contacts, and he couldn't find Nick's plaid scarf which he had specifically told him to wear ("Because it's cold out, Louis, and this one's the thickest we have")

He does start crying, though, once he realises that Nick isn't there to drive him to work and that he'll have to take this bus. On his own. His bum still hurts; he's been limping since he stood up. He can't fathom how he's gonna be able to sit in a hard plastic seat for an hour, and he's just so frustrated at this point that he has to stop for a few minutes just to bawl his eyes out.

By the time he leaves the house, he sees that he's already thirteen minutes late. He spends another two minutes walking to the bus stop, then ten more ontop of that fidgeting and waiting for the bleeding bus get there.

By the time it does, Louis' completely irritated. Not just with the situation, not with the couple sitting on the benches snogging each other silly, not with the dog that keeps barking at him from the house behind him. He gets irritated with himself, for upsetting Nick, and for getting himself in the mess that he's in.

Louis' contemplating going back home when the bus comes to a stop ahead of him, and now he really doesn't see the point in turning back- his day can't get any worse, right? So he steps in and heads for the last empty row of seats. He tries to sit carefully, but of course it still hurts. He whines defeatedly and rests his head against the window, the cool glass soothing his flushed cheek.

~

He undoubtedly falls asleep and only wakes up when he feels someone's presence beside him. He doesn't look at who it is, though. He doesn't even open his eyes.

The only thing he really focuses on is how cold he is despite the fact that he's wrapped in three different jackets and two additional layers of clothing. He doesn't worry about it, though, neither does he worry about the fact that he's breathing way quicker than he should be.

He sighs heavily and tries to curl in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut.

He shudders and wraps his arms tighter around himself, trying to quiet his own thoughts. His little nap did nothing to stop them, and they're driving him crazy.

His shoulders slump, and just as he starts thinking that he can fall asleep again, the bus jolts. The front wheel on his side falls into a pothole, then the back wheel. It takes all he has not to scream out, his body flying up out of the seat and plopping unforgivingly back down. And. He just can't anymore.

His bum hurts and his neck hurts from keeping his head against the window and his hands are numb and Nick fucking left this morning without kissing him goodbye and he _always_ kisses him goodbye, no matter what, and that simply means that he fucked up even more than he thought and that he isn't good, he isn't good enough for Nick, he isn't good enough for anyone and he just wants to go back home and snuggle down in Nick's duvet and _fuck, does Nick even want him in his things anymore_?

Louis starts crying for the third time that morning, then, ripping Nick's scarf from around his neck with all the might he can muster.

His elbow jams the guy sitting next to him but he doesn't _care_ , he just needs to get off this bus and get Nick to love him again.

Louis can see out the corner of his eye that the bloke is saying something to him but he can't hear him, can't hear the sounds of the busy city just outside the bus window, can't hear anything except his own thoughts of _you fucked up, you always fuck up, why are you like this_?

Louis' chest heaves twice before he cries out, and if anyone looks back at him he isn't able to see them. His vision is blurred completely by unshed tears, so he squeezes them shut and tries to blink them away.

He re-opens them when a hand grips his thigh, right above his knee, and stares at it. He looks up slowly at the sound of a distorted voice, the words sinking slow into his system.

"Yeah, that's it, just focus on me, yeah?" Louis makes out, and blinks once, lashes sticking to his cheeks with his tears.

He picks up a subtle command in the statement, and blinks again, looking down at the hand on his thigh. The fingers of that hand extend almost all the way across it like spider webs.

Louis knows he's whimpering, is aware that he's shivering uncontrollably, but he can't stop. His bum hurts and he wouldn't have been hurting if he had just stayed at Nick's side at his dinner party last night instead of wandering off like a puppy. Nick wouldn't have left him while he was still a little spacey, wouldn't have left without telling him that he loved him, wouldn't have left Louis to take the bus, wouldn't have left overall.

He starts pinching at his thighs, then hitting them with closed fists when that's no longer enough, and he doesn't stop until the boy grabs a hold of his wrists in one of his palms, keeping them suspended in the air between them.

He's saying something to him again as he tries to pull away, but he doesn't make an effort to listen. The lad is so _strong_ , though; the mere fact that he's keeping both of his hands still in his palm overwhelming him. He doesn't fight for long once he realises how pointless it is and collapses onto the guy's chest. He feels him tense underneath him, but then strong arms are draping themselves across his back and welcomes it.

He lets out a few strained sobs, and the boy hikes him up further in his lap until he's almost fully sitting on him. Louis hides his face in his neck. He smells lovely, and Louis presses his nose below his ear without thinking. He knows he's probably smearing tears and snot and whatever else that's on his face on his neck but this is the most comfortable he’s been since last night, and he’ll be fucked to move.

Louis can feel the column of the boy's neck rumbling against the damp skin of his cheek with each word that he's whispering into his ear. His sobs turn into quiet whimpers, but he's still shivering. He feels the boy rubbing patterns across his lower back, and he _swears_ he can feel the warmth if his touch through the jackets.

”Listen to me, you’re good, you’re so perfect, you’re okay. It would be lovely if you calmed down a little more though, I’m right here.” And that last bit makes Louis whine, makes him move closer to him and plaster his body further across his chest. The boy cards his fingers through his hair, pulling the roots gently as he combs the knots out of the damp locks.

He feels so much safer around this boy, and it should worry Louis even a little bit, but it doesn’t.

Louis knows that the bus has probably passed his stop by now and he doesn’t even make the effort to look up and through the window. “God,” he croaks out, clearing his throat. He notices that the boy is still holding onto him and he coughs, and he feels his grip loosen enough that he can move back a little. “Are you okay, now?” he’s being asked, and only then does he look up at him.

And- wow. He’s gorgeous. No, he's fucking _stunning_. Louis can see that he’s younger than him, and is astounded at how much bigger he is than him. His shoulders are set broader than his own and his torso and legs extend way beyond Louis'. He's fascinated by the bloke’s face, all sharp lines and pale skin, soft-looking, pink lips and shinning, emerald eyes. Louis can see a little bun perched on the top of his head and he bites at the inside of his cheek instead of telling him how cute he thinks he is. Long eyelashes are waving carelessly at him, wide eyes staring him down, and that’s when he remembers that he was asked a question.

“Yeah” he squeaks out, blushing as he stutters. He groans when the boy chuckles and, oh, he has _dimples_. His smile reveals a row of perfect, white teeth and fucking dimples, as deep as the Grand Canyon.

”My name’s Harry,” he speaks in a slow drawl, and Louis tests the name in his head. _Harry_. He decides that he quite likes it, and smiles sheepishly up at him. “Louis,” he says, fighting the urge to curl back into the boy- Harry’s chest. His body is still sort of lying across his lap, though, so he’ll take that.

He tenses a little when he sees Harry’s smile slowly falling, and soon enough being replaced by a frown, his bushy eyebrows pulling together. Louis whines and tries to sit up fully, but Harry only grabs his waist and pulls him back against him, even closer that they were before.

”Um,” Harry starts, and Louis holds his breath.

“I hate to intrude, but, it’s- kinda important that I know.” He stops again, and sighs.

”Are you a submissive?”

Louis cringes, but he doesn’t really know why. He _is_ , that’s what Nick told him he was, and that’s what he’s known himself as for years.

”I- yeah.” he stammers, and tries to move away again. This time Harry lets him, and he scoots back all the way over to his seat. He feels cold without Harry's bigger body enveloping him but he stays where he is.

”Look, I’m so sorry that I put you in that position, but you don’t have to feel sorry for me. I’m fine.” which is a lie, because even as he says it, tears start gathering in his eyes again.

Harry reaches over tentatively and touches his arm, and Louis blinks away the tears that are threatening to fall. “Do you even know what’s happening to you right now?” Harry asks, slowly, carefully, and Louis presses his lips into a thin line as he shakes his head.

"You’re dropping.” Harry licks his lips, pauses. “Has your dom hit you in the last twelve hours?”

For some reason, Harry seems more composed now, more at ease talking about this. And with his rising comfort, Louis’ falls.

He stutters twice before he manages to nod, and Harry’s frown deepens more. “Where the hell is he, then?” he asks, his voice steady despite the heat building behind his eyes.

”He had to go into work early,” Louis says quietly, looking down. He hears Harry sigh and huffs, wringing his hands together instead of looking up.

”Where are you headed to?” Harry asks, sounding slightly exasperated. Louis finally looks through the window and he sees that they’re in the downtown part of Yorkshire. He’s passed his stop about half-hour ago, and he groans. “I was headed to work. I’ve passed my stop already, though,” Louis trails off, slumping against the back of his seat.

Harry sighs again, but this time it’s relieved instead of aggravated. “Good, you wouldn't have been able to work either way.”

Harry doesn’t speak again for a little while after that, and Louis uses the time to shut his eyes and breathe.

God, he feels numb all over. He pulls his legs up into the seat with him and curls himself into a little ball.

He's physical drained at this point and all he wants to do is sleep, but then he hears Harry's voice again and his eyes fly open. "Louis?" comes his raspy murmur. "Would you mind coming to my house for lunch? It's the next stop,"

Louis casts a careful glance over at the taller man. He would _love_ to, honestly, but he doesn't think Nick would be very pleased if he found out that he was at some bloke's house while he thought he was at work.

But at the same time, Nick _left_ , didn't he? Nick left first. Maybe, this way, Nick will feel as overwhelmed as Louis did when he calls Louis' boss and hears that he isn't there.

Louis looks back through the window and sighs.

"I would love to, Harry." he smiles, ignoring the way his heart flutters when he smiles back.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know you're probably disappointed, so to curse me out, here's my [tumblr](http://smol-larrie.tumblr.com/).


End file.
